Vince was unresponsive this time. The butcher knife incident had not gone unnoticed, and fortunately for all, Jenny was unharmed. She taught me how to make real coffee, the kind where you felt the spoon could almost stand up by itself if you let go. Up all night, that was the norm for Vince and the Wizard.
On the last gig, Willy severely injured his hand moving some damn piece of furniture. It was a bad bit of luck, and yet it was the first time he played slide guitar. It was the only way open for him to play at all that night. Some things are only discovered through accident and pain.
The mouth-guard was cold, and it felt used. Why should they care about something like that, after all? It was only electroshock therapy, and afterward, Vince wouldn’t remember the indignity of the treatment. It was bright, then dim, and then bright again. Not a single loved one was present to witness this dark travesty of medicine, brain erasure. Whoever thought humans needed a reset switch? It could just as easily be any of us on that table.
This band of misfits
Brothers, to most apparent
Some left for the coast
Others lived fat and happy lives
One went to live
In a low, dark basement
In the bowels of a crazy farm
And never came back
Can I come sleep on your couch
Vince asked once
But Wizard couldn’t be bothered
With little things like that
Dead ahead where there ain’t no road
And the water runs upstream
Blue cold, shakin’ them bones
Keep on kicking up sweet dreams
